


Skeletal

by HorseCrazyWriter76



Series: NaNoWriMo November 2019 [5]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Missing Limbs, Skeleton!Logan, Werewolf!Patton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 16:51:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21377377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HorseCrazyWriter76/pseuds/HorseCrazyWriter76
Summary: So, how have you been?/I seem to have misplaced my left arm, so not great.Prompt: https://corvidprompts.tumblr.com/post/187626711381/so-how-have-you-been-i-seem-to-have
Series: NaNoWriMo November 2019 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541089
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	Skeletal

There were certain things you didn’t understand until you were a skeleton. For instance how uncomfortable it was to have things going through areas that felt whole. Blankets, thin objects, and the like could be circumvented fairly easily, but the wind was the worst part. It seemed to drive home the fact that you were dead. To Logan it especially highlighted the fact that he  _ should  _ be dead. He had been hit by a car, there had been a funeral, he should no longer be capable of conscious thought. 

Yet here he was, walking around the house without a pinky because he must have rolled on it during the night, and it popped loose before managing to hide itself. That was another thing you couldn’t really understand until you were a skeleton: what it feels like to lose a piece of your body. Logan supposed amputees knew part of the feeling, but their finger hadn’t just popped off in the night because they rolled onto it. 

Logan wanted coffee. That was something he still hadn’t gotten used to. Whatever process gave him conscious thought had apparently not thought it necessary to give him the ability to intake liquids, or solids, for that matter. He could chew food, but there was no liquid in his mouth and no esophagus to bear it down to his now-non-existent stomach and through his also-missing intestines.

Logan let out a tiny groan and sat down on the couch, all too aware of how his pelvic bones pressed into the lumpy material. He shifted, which his left femur took as its cue to pop off. He picked it up and shook the limb, as if that would stop it from deattatching again, then brought it to the joint. They snapped into place as if they were puzzle pieces on a digital puzzle.

He picked up his book from where he had left it the night before and resumed reading, allowing the book to whisk him away from his skeletal state into the land of a murder mystery where the murder victim was killed and stayed dead instead of reawakening as a skeleton. He finished it fairly quickly and picked up a puzzle. He lay out the pieces and began solving. He sorted out all the edge pieces and linked them together, then sorted all the pieces by color and slowly piece together the image of a copse of evergreen trees. The boughs were dusted with snow and a snowman smiled out at the skeleton. 

Well, Logan assumed it smiled out at whoever pieced together the puzzle, seeing as how the specific piece that held the snowman’s face was missing. He sighed his frustration and began to put the puzzle back into its box, realizing just as he put the box away that his thumb and ring finger had fallen off. They were probably in the puzzle box now. He sighed his frustration again, as if that would summon his missing digits, although he found he didn’t care enough to open the box to find them. He checked the time and fed a nature documentary into the dvd played. He relaxed back onto the couch and allowed himself to get lost in the life of a polar bear.

“Heya, Logan!” Patton chirped. Logan paused the documentary and tried to prop himself up on his arm, only to discover that it had popped off sometime while he was watching the documentary. 

“Good afternoon, Patton,” he replied with a glance at the clock to check that it was, indeed, after noon.

“How’s it going?”

“Well, I seem to have misplaced my left arm, so not the best.”

“How did you lose your left arm?” Patton laughed, his tail wagging.

“I do not know. I was watching a documentary, and I must have shifted onto it and caused it to dislocate.”

“Well, I’ll help you find it after I have my breakfast, okay?”

“Okay.”

With that the werewolf disappeared into their kitchen. Logan turned the documentary back on, watching as the bear prepared for hibernation. He heard various beeps coming from the kitchen, then the scent of something burning. He shot to his feet and raced to the kitchen where Patton was beating at a fire with his spatula.

“Why are you fanning the flames!” He grabbed the fire extinguisher, a new addition he had insisted on, and had the fire doused within a minute. “This is why I insisted on having a fire extinguisher,” he sighed, looking back at Patton, who was watching him with wide eyes.

“I was just trying to make bacon.”

“You attempted to make bacon in a toaster.”

“Is that what it’s called?”

“Why would you attempt to use something you don’t even know the name of?”

“Well, I know you don’t like being in the kitchen because it reminds you that you can’t eat.”

“I would have been more than happy to teach you how to use a toaster.”

“Well, I think we need a new one now.”

Logan eyed the burnt toasted and pulled out a paper towel, running it along the inside, which was still slightly warm from the fire. He pulled down the lever and watched as the insides turned red.

“It appears this one is still functional,” he replied, pressing the button to turn it off. Patton jumped at the sound that the trays made as they lifted. 

“Well, thanks for your help! I’ll be out quick as a wink!” Patton said far too brightly. Logan shrugged and returned to the documentary. Patton truly didn’t take long before reappearing.

“Do you think it went in between the couch cushions?” Patton asked the air, already pulling up a cushion to check underneath of it. Logan pulled up another one, and Patton pulled up the final section. Next Patton bent down to look under the couch, which was also ruled out. They looked around the room for possibly places where something over two feet long could possibly hide. They checked underneath all of the furniture, inside all the game and puzzle boxes, where they indeed found Logan’s missing thumb and ring finger. Logan tucked the appendages into his pocket and they continued their search.

Logan’s humerus had somehow become separated from the rest of his arm and tucked into the small gap between the tv stand and the tv itself. He picked it up and turned it around once in his hand before attaching it, “How would a bone move itself? Granted, as is, I am a bunch of bones moving independently, but how does it move independently of whatever forces allow for me to think and move?”

“I dunno, but it is kind of  _ funny,  _ don’t you think? Get it? Funny bone?”

“I do not see how that it humorous.”

“Did you just make...a pun?” Patton asked, a smile growing on his face.”

“That was not my intent.”

“Sure it wasn’t, Lo. Want to check in the kitchen for the rest of your arm?”

“I suppose that it a logical next step.”

It didn’t take long for Patton to find the rest of Logan’s arm, minus the hamate and his pinky. He took it from Patton and it popped neatly back into place. He flexed it wordlessly, watching his bones slide over each other.

“It looks like something’s missing,” Patton frowned, looking at Logan’s hand.

“Are you referring to my hamate?”

“What’s a hamate?”

“It’s this bone,” Logan replied, popping the bone out of his other hand, then taking the ring and pinky fingers of his right hand into the grip of the remaining fingers and handing it to Patton for him to examine while sticking his left hand into the pocket to allow the thumb to reattach.

“That’s a little bone,” Patton said, handing it back, “I think we need a better plan to find it than looking around.”

“What do you suggest we do?”

“Make a sensor?”

“How would you do that?” Logan sighed, reattaching his right hamate and fingers.

“Mm, is there anything only bones have?”

“No. I believe the best strategy remains to look everywhere.”

“Well, having a sensor would be easier.”

“Please inform me if you discover a practical means of detecting a bone that has been detached from me.”

“I will! Let’s get started on looking for that little bone. Where’s the next best place?”

“It’s called a hamate and I believe the next logical place to look would be my room,” Logan sighed, already leading the way up the stairs to his room. It was slow work searching his room. Everywhere seemed to be big enough to hide a small bone, yet none of them relinquished the bone until Logan moved a bottle of nearly opaque black liquid and the bone clinked against the glass, leaving a faint impression on the side before floating back to the center of the middle, as if it didn’t want to be found. He put his hand over the top, and the bone reconnected.

“I found it, Patton,” he informed the werewolf, who was on his stomach trying to see under his bed.

“You did? Awesome!” Patton replied, then broke off with a yawn, “Say, what were you watching before?”

“A documentary on the life cycle of a polar bear.”

“That sounds cool. Can I watch with you?”

“I don’t see why you couldn’t.”

“Great! I’ll get the stuff for a blanket fort!”

“I never agreed to a blan-and he’s gone. I suppose I will have to inform him when he returns that I will not enter the blanket fort,” Logan muttered to himself and made his way downstairs to wash off the remains of the black liquid from his hand. When he returned to the living room Patton was laying out the foundation for the blanket fort. Logan helped him to set up the roof and extra pillows.

“You first!” Patton said, his tail wagging with excitement. 

Logan took a look at the blanket fort, then looked back at Patton, and his protest died on his tongue. He climbed into the blanket fort and settled into position. Patton crawled in after him and Logan turned on the documentary. He started to panic when he realized he was missing a ring finger, then remembered he hadn’t attached it after finding his hamate. He fished it out of his pocket and it clicked into place. If he had muscles and flesh with which to do it with, he would have smiled.


End file.
